That hour of watching and waiting was intensely trying. She had been occupied all the night, so eagerly and energetically, as to exclude thought or anticipation; now she could only sit in silence, and weary, worn out, sorrowful, and yet striving to be patient, remain quietly expecting the painful task before her.
She wished to keep awake, and opening her Bible, she tried to fix her eyes and thoughts upon it, and determined so to pass the time; but blessed sleep stole over her so softly, that she knew not of its approaches, and the tearful eyes closed, the heavy head dropped upon the pillow beside it, and a deep unconsciousness, a perfect dreamless repose wrapped all the past in
oblivion, and brought the refreshment which that young, but willing spirit needed to fulfil her destined task. “He giveth His beloved sleep.”
Gwyneth was astonished that morning, when, on unclosing her eyes, she discovered her eldest sister, half sitting, half lying on her pillow, dressed as last night, and yet sleeping profoundly, even though tears trembled on her eye-lashes, while her long and glossy brown hair lay unbound and unbraided over her neck and cheek.
With the thoughtless impulse of her nature, she at once woke her up, and eagerly inquired why she was there, what was the matter, what had made her cry.
That sudden waking bewildered Hilary; the vague, puzzled feeling which so often follows deep sleep, at an unusual time, or in an unaccustomed place, came over her, and for a minute she could remember nothing; not where she was, nor what had happened, nor why she found herself so strangely sleeping there. She pressed her hands over her eyes; the full tide of thought and memory came back, and she shrank from the pain she was about to give. But it must be done! yes, and done by her too, or the task would fall on her father, perhaps; and done at once, that the first wild agony of tears and grief might be stilled and composed in part before it came to add to that father’s pain and desolation.
She drew the two rosy faces toward her, for Sybil was awake now, and pressing each in her arms, as they knelt or crouched upon the bed, she faltered out the words, through her tears,
“Mamma has been ill in the night!”
Gwyneth fixed her full dark eyes upon her sister’s face with a gaze which seemed to ask for more, for some explanation. Sybil gave a frightened start, and said,
“Oh, Hilary, and how is she now?—has she been very ill?”